Imaginary Friend
18 May 2007 21:14![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randomweavingTitle: Imaginary Friend
Characters: JD/Cox
Rating: R for language and some violence
Description: About a month into his internship, JD starts having some unusual dreams.
Author's Notes: We're back! And as with most of our stories, this one contains some fantastical elements, so if that puts you off give it a miss. Should be about six chapters all said, and we'll post them as we get them edited.
JD supposed strange dreams shouldn't surprise him, as odd as his sleep schedule had become since he started his internship. He'd thought med school was taxing on sleep, but with all the alternating shifts, and being on call every other night (it seemed), he was falling asleep nearly the moment his head hit the pillow--any pillow. His dreams were scattered, vague, disjointed--and when he remembered them, they were disconnected and often interrupted.
This one seemed different, though. He frowned, blinking, as he found himself standing quite abruptly in the middle of a small, dingy living room, with a small, ancient-looking radio and no television. The decor seemed strange, somehow--old, but not as old as it should be given the style. His frown deepened; he definitely didn't recognize the room, but it was in full detail, and more than he was used to, even considering his usually overactive imagination. He couldn't think of a single room in his memory that would match this one, or even come close, in real life or otherwise.
And the little boy crying in the corner...where had he come from? It wasn't Dan, it wasn't him...it wasn't anyone he recognized.
The reason for his crying was obvious in a moment, though.
"I told you not to mess with it!" roared a voice, and JD jumped, startled to realize there was a large man right behind him, pacing. He backpedaled quickly, then gasped when he realized he'd just backed straight through the couch.
So this is weird...
The boy in the corner sobbed. "I'm sorry!" he lisped, the 'r's coming out sounding like 'w's. "I won' do it again!"
"I was listening to Sinatra," the man growled, and JD realized he was waving his hand at the large old-fashined radio. "When I tell you not to change the station, I mean it, you numbskull!"
The boy, cringing, said, "You was asleepin'," in a tremulous voice. "I wanned to hear the Lone Ranger."
"Did I tell you to talk?!" JD jumped, again startled (and increasingly horrified) as the man suddenly grabbed a hard-bound book off the coffee table and hurled it at the child.
He was even more startled when the second book passed right through him, as he moved automatically to stop the man from doing it again. Neither hit the boy--they didn't even come close, the man's coordination was thrown off and JD could almost smell the booze on him--but it did make the child cower back even more, strangled little whimpers coming out of his throat as he fought frightened tears.
Dream or no, JD could remain silent no longer. "You have to stop this," he heard himself say, furious, reaching out to grab the man's hand, to stop him from throwing anything else. But, as with the couch, his hand passed right through the man. He couldn't touch him, or deflect the books; couldn't affect the scene in any way. Finally he resigned himself to watching, enraged and increasingly nauseated, as the man threw a few more things at the boy before stomping out of the room, muttering furiously.
Then only JD and the little boy remained in the room. The child was cowering beneath the small TV table under which he'd taken feeble shelter, still sniffling and making those odd little almost-sobs.
JD moved forward, unable to stop himself, though he suspected his presence would do no good--would not even be noticed. He crouched down beside the child, stooping to get a better look at him, see if he could place the face and figure out who he was and why he was in JD's subconscious. And he froze, when the boy looked up, and his eyes snagged immediately with JD's. The child's went impossibly wide, and he pressed himself further back against the wall, arms wrapped around knees held tight to his chest. "W-who are you?" he whimpered.
JD blinked, surprised to realize the kid could see him. Then he remembered it was a dream, and shrugged it off, settling down beside the table, shifting a little, making sure he wasn't blocking the boy's escape route if he wanted to take off. He brought his knees up to his own chest, and rested his chin on them, watching the little boy with what he hoped was a friendly smile. "I'm JD," he said. "Who're you?"
The boy sniffled again, reaching up to drag his arm beneath his nose. "Perry," he mumbled, though it came out 'Pewwy.'
JD dug in his pocket, a little surprised to find he actually had some tissues on him. He slid one across the floor, setting it near Perry. "This is a good hiding place you've got here," he offered. "You can still see the rest of the room. I used to hide under my bed, but that was bad sometimes because I couldn't see my brother coming."
Perry perked a little, looking cautious but unable to keep silent. "I hide under my bed sometimes," he confided. "It's good cuz daddy doesn't fit and he can't reach me." He shifted, squirming a little, looking JD over but no longer seeming quite as threatened by him. "How old is your brover?"
"He's three years older'n me," JD replied. "So he was always bigger."
"My sister's Paige, but she's just little still," Perry said. "Daddy doesn't chase her though. She's too little now, I think." He nodded wisely, apparently pleased to have decoded this small facet of his life. Then, brightening suddenly, he said, "You wanna see my room?"
JD nodded, encouraged that Perry'd stopped crying now, though getting a lower and lower opinion of his father all the time. "Yeah!" He stood up and offered his hand without thinking.
But when Perry reached for it, JD was startled to realize that while everything else might pass right through him, Perry's hand was solid, and real, damp with tears but warm. The child grinned, earlier troubles apparently forgotten; though JD was glad of it, he realized it probably meant they were relatively common, and he fought the urge to scowl. The doctor in him wanted to check the child over, look for signs of earlier abuse, call social services--it took him by surprise, when he suddenly remembered this was a dream. He shook his head at himself, amused, and felt something in his heart ease a little. Dream children, after all, needn't be worried for, or fretted over. This boy was a figment of his overtaxed imagination. Nothing more.
"I have to share with my sister, when she's big enough, but it's still a boy's room," Perry was telling him as he trotted through the narrow hallway toward the room on the corner. "You can tell 'cuz it's blue, see?" he pushed open the door, tugging JD's hand. "I have a baseball bear," he said, squirming excitedly. "C'mere!"
JD followed, the room making his heart ache again. It reminded him in some ways of his own, though the Dorians had never been quite this strapped for cash, even when his father wasn't doing well. The few toys he saw were old, ratty, but obviously incredibly well cared for, and the room itself was mostly bare.
Perry let go of his hand to run to his bed, scrambling up and grabbing a worn teddy bear off the pillows. He toddled back over to JD, presenting it proudly to JD. One eye was missing, there was a hole in the bear's throat, but he did wear a ball cap and a little baseball shirt, the Pittsburgh Pirates logos nearly worn away.
JD sank down to the floor and took the small bear, no longer questioning why he could touch it, as well. Dreams weren't supposed to make sense. "He is a baseball bear!" JD grinned, looking the toy over appraisingly before nodding his approval. "I never had one that had a shirt and cap and everything. What's his name?"
"Billy," Perry said. "Like Billy O'Dell, the pitcher. I like him 'cuz he's pretty good, even though he's kinda small like me. Billy Bear is small too. You're not small, though," he said suddenly, frowning at JD. "You're big."
JD nodded. "I know. I wasn't always big, though. I was really small when I was younger. But I'm old, now, and it happens." He shifted, though, until he was stretched out on the floor, Perry's head above his. "How old are you? You'll be bigger when you grow up, too."
"Dis many," Perry said, holding up four fingers. "I wanna be really big when I get old like you, 'cuz you know why?"
"Why?" JD asked, his heart clenching a little. God, this kid was so young...How long had his asstard father been treating him like this?
"'Cuz then I won't be scared all the time," Perry said matter-of-factly. "When you're bigger you don't get scared, right?"
JD bit the inside of his lip, hugging the bear a little. "Not as much, no...but sometimes you still do," he admitted. "Having good friends helps, though. They're always there for you, when you're scared."
"Oh," Perry said, frowning. "I haven't got any friends. Daddy says I can't go out and play with them cuz I'm not good 'nuff an' I don' got nice things like they got." He flopped down onto his rear, studying Billy Bear carefully, clearly deep in thought. Then, brightening suddenly, he looked back up at JD. "Will you be my friend?" he asked. "I'll be good!"
"I'll be your friend even if you're bad," JD said firmly, swallowing yet again against the lump of anger and pain in his throat. "But I have a very important question for you, Perry."
Perry looked up at him, eyes wide. "What?" he breathed, clearly thrilled to be let in on something important.
JD couldn't help but smile. "Will you be my friend, too?" he asked, voice very serious.
Perry's entire face lit up. "Okay!" he shrieked gleefully, climbing to his feet and moving as though to hug JD. But before JD could move, there was a sudden stuttering noise from the next room, and the house was filled with the sound of an infant's cries.
The effect on Perry was immediate. His eyes grew huge, the smile vanishing instantly; his face went quite pale, and he clapped both hands over his mouth in a theatrical gesture that would've been funny if JD hadn't feared he knew its cause.
Sure enough, moments later, a weary female voice from the room called, "James, please keep him quiet," and moments later, the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway met JD's ears.
"Damned boy," came the muttered curse. "Perry! What did I tell you?!"
Perry bit back a terrified sob and lowered his head, hands clasped behind his back as he shifted nervously from foot to foot.
JD's eyes widened. "Hide!" he hissed, driven by a sudden and powerful impulse to protect the boy. "Hide under the bed!"
Perry shook his head. "Can't," he gulped around his sniffles. "It'll be worse later."
The door swung open, slamming against the far wall and rattling on its hinges, and Perry's father stood, looking every inch as terrifying as he had before. "Boy, what have I told you about being noisy when your sister is asleep?" he growled.
Perry shifted some more. "I'm sorry, Daddy," he said, very quietly.
"Not as sorry as you're gonna be," the man muttered, reaching down and grabbing Perry roughly by the wrist. "Come on. It's the belt for you."
Perry gulped again, but didn't fight against his father's hold; as he was dragged out of the room, he looked over his shoulder at JD and whispered, "Bye," in a high pitched, quavering voice.
* * *
JD woke up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, every moment of the dream still crystal clear in his mind. He shook his head, rolling over, his own alarm clock comforting him somewhat. But when he closed his eyes he say Perry's frightened face again, and he shivered, leaning over to flick the lamp on, grabbing his journal off the bedside table.
It wasn't until he'd written down every detail he remembered that he felt ready for sleep again.
* * *
"I'm telling you, you're reading too much into it," Turk told him again, as they sat at the bar. "The guy's an asshole. So he yelled at you again. Big deal. He yells at you all the time, remember?"
JD sighed, scowling at his beer. "I didn't even do anything," he muttered, tugging at the corner of the label.
"Yeah, so?" Turk snorted, taking another swig of his beer. "Case in point. Dude, why is it bothering you so much?"
JD shrugged. He didn't want to tell Turk that he'd had a bad dream, and that Dr. Cox's rants had reminded him of little Perry's father. Turk knew he was weird, but that would be pushing it even for him. "I dunno," he said. "Lack of sleep, I guess."
"Yeah, speaking of which," Turk said, glancing at him. "I walked by your bedroom at like two in the morning to take a leak and your light was on. Everything okay?"
"I had a strange dream. Wanted to write it down so I could get back to sleep." JD pushed his half-empty bottle aside, sighing. Somehow he didn't even want to feel buzzed, tonight. "I just don't get why Cox is always so hostile...I do everything he wants, as well as I can..."
"Dude, seriously, forget about it," Turk said, waving the bartender over. "And look, I know you don't really go for beer, so you can order an appletini if you want, and I swear I won't make fun of you. Come on, whaddya say?"
JD sighed. "No, I... I'm not really in the mood for this tonight," he said. "I'm sorry--rain check, okay?" He pushed his stool back, standing and dropping a few bucks on the bar. "I'll see you later."
"Dude, what--?" Turk started, but JD ignored him, pushing past the other occupants of the bar and wandering back into the brisk evening air.
He felt a little guilty, leaving Turk alone, but only a little. Some of his surgery buddies would show up soon enough, and he'd forget JD'd taken off.
JD started the walk back to his apartment, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, trying to work out what was bothering him.
Sure the dream had been weird--even more so because it hadn't faded on waking. And sure, Cox had yelled at him again. But why were both things having such an effect on him? He scowled, kicking at a rock. He'd spent half the day wanting to bash Perry's asshole father over the head, swoop in and protect the boy. And he knew there were all sorts of dream interpretations possible from the whole thing, but none of them seemed to ring true. Not for this.
"Why'd I come up with it, anyway?" he muttered to the night air. Aside from the yelling, there wasn't really anything in the dream he could relate to his own life. And even that...Sure, Cox yelled at him, but never with the pure anger and malice he'd heard from Perry's father the night before. Cox was sarcastic, but he wasn't actually abusive, save verbally.
"Maybe I've just been working too hard," he muttered to himself, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. Wasn't like it'd happen again, right?
* * *
Next chapter
* * *
Characters: JD/Cox
Rating: R for language and some violence
Description: About a month into his internship, JD starts having some unusual dreams.
Author's Notes: We're back! And as with most of our stories, this one contains some fantastical elements, so if that puts you off give it a miss. Should be about six chapters all said, and we'll post them as we get them edited.
JD supposed strange dreams shouldn't surprise him, as odd as his sleep schedule had become since he started his internship. He'd thought med school was taxing on sleep, but with all the alternating shifts, and being on call every other night (it seemed), he was falling asleep nearly the moment his head hit the pillow--any pillow. His dreams were scattered, vague, disjointed--and when he remembered them, they were disconnected and often interrupted.
This one seemed different, though. He frowned, blinking, as he found himself standing quite abruptly in the middle of a small, dingy living room, with a small, ancient-looking radio and no television. The decor seemed strange, somehow--old, but not as old as it should be given the style. His frown deepened; he definitely didn't recognize the room, but it was in full detail, and more than he was used to, even considering his usually overactive imagination. He couldn't think of a single room in his memory that would match this one, or even come close, in real life or otherwise.
And the little boy crying in the corner...where had he come from? It wasn't Dan, it wasn't him...it wasn't anyone he recognized.
The reason for his crying was obvious in a moment, though.
"I told you not to mess with it!" roared a voice, and JD jumped, startled to realize there was a large man right behind him, pacing. He backpedaled quickly, then gasped when he realized he'd just backed straight through the couch.
So this is weird...
The boy in the corner sobbed. "I'm sorry!" he lisped, the 'r's coming out sounding like 'w's. "I won' do it again!"
"I was listening to Sinatra," the man growled, and JD realized he was waving his hand at the large old-fashined radio. "When I tell you not to change the station, I mean it, you numbskull!"
The boy, cringing, said, "You was asleepin'," in a tremulous voice. "I wanned to hear the Lone Ranger."
"Did I tell you to talk?!" JD jumped, again startled (and increasingly horrified) as the man suddenly grabbed a hard-bound book off the coffee table and hurled it at the child.
He was even more startled when the second book passed right through him, as he moved automatically to stop the man from doing it again. Neither hit the boy--they didn't even come close, the man's coordination was thrown off and JD could almost smell the booze on him--but it did make the child cower back even more, strangled little whimpers coming out of his throat as he fought frightened tears.
Dream or no, JD could remain silent no longer. "You have to stop this," he heard himself say, furious, reaching out to grab the man's hand, to stop him from throwing anything else. But, as with the couch, his hand passed right through the man. He couldn't touch him, or deflect the books; couldn't affect the scene in any way. Finally he resigned himself to watching, enraged and increasingly nauseated, as the man threw a few more things at the boy before stomping out of the room, muttering furiously.
Then only JD and the little boy remained in the room. The child was cowering beneath the small TV table under which he'd taken feeble shelter, still sniffling and making those odd little almost-sobs.
JD moved forward, unable to stop himself, though he suspected his presence would do no good--would not even be noticed. He crouched down beside the child, stooping to get a better look at him, see if he could place the face and figure out who he was and why he was in JD's subconscious. And he froze, when the boy looked up, and his eyes snagged immediately with JD's. The child's went impossibly wide, and he pressed himself further back against the wall, arms wrapped around knees held tight to his chest. "W-who are you?" he whimpered.
JD blinked, surprised to realize the kid could see him. Then he remembered it was a dream, and shrugged it off, settling down beside the table, shifting a little, making sure he wasn't blocking the boy's escape route if he wanted to take off. He brought his knees up to his own chest, and rested his chin on them, watching the little boy with what he hoped was a friendly smile. "I'm JD," he said. "Who're you?"
The boy sniffled again, reaching up to drag his arm beneath his nose. "Perry," he mumbled, though it came out 'Pewwy.'
JD dug in his pocket, a little surprised to find he actually had some tissues on him. He slid one across the floor, setting it near Perry. "This is a good hiding place you've got here," he offered. "You can still see the rest of the room. I used to hide under my bed, but that was bad sometimes because I couldn't see my brother coming."
Perry perked a little, looking cautious but unable to keep silent. "I hide under my bed sometimes," he confided. "It's good cuz daddy doesn't fit and he can't reach me." He shifted, squirming a little, looking JD over but no longer seeming quite as threatened by him. "How old is your brover?"
"He's three years older'n me," JD replied. "So he was always bigger."
"My sister's Paige, but she's just little still," Perry said. "Daddy doesn't chase her though. She's too little now, I think." He nodded wisely, apparently pleased to have decoded this small facet of his life. Then, brightening suddenly, he said, "You wanna see my room?"
JD nodded, encouraged that Perry'd stopped crying now, though getting a lower and lower opinion of his father all the time. "Yeah!" He stood up and offered his hand without thinking.
But when Perry reached for it, JD was startled to realize that while everything else might pass right through him, Perry's hand was solid, and real, damp with tears but warm. The child grinned, earlier troubles apparently forgotten; though JD was glad of it, he realized it probably meant they were relatively common, and he fought the urge to scowl. The doctor in him wanted to check the child over, look for signs of earlier abuse, call social services--it took him by surprise, when he suddenly remembered this was a dream. He shook his head at himself, amused, and felt something in his heart ease a little. Dream children, after all, needn't be worried for, or fretted over. This boy was a figment of his overtaxed imagination. Nothing more.
"I have to share with my sister, when she's big enough, but it's still a boy's room," Perry was telling him as he trotted through the narrow hallway toward the room on the corner. "You can tell 'cuz it's blue, see?" he pushed open the door, tugging JD's hand. "I have a baseball bear," he said, squirming excitedly. "C'mere!"
JD followed, the room making his heart ache again. It reminded him in some ways of his own, though the Dorians had never been quite this strapped for cash, even when his father wasn't doing well. The few toys he saw were old, ratty, but obviously incredibly well cared for, and the room itself was mostly bare.
Perry let go of his hand to run to his bed, scrambling up and grabbing a worn teddy bear off the pillows. He toddled back over to JD, presenting it proudly to JD. One eye was missing, there was a hole in the bear's throat, but he did wear a ball cap and a little baseball shirt, the Pittsburgh Pirates logos nearly worn away.
JD sank down to the floor and took the small bear, no longer questioning why he could touch it, as well. Dreams weren't supposed to make sense. "He is a baseball bear!" JD grinned, looking the toy over appraisingly before nodding his approval. "I never had one that had a shirt and cap and everything. What's his name?"
"Billy," Perry said. "Like Billy O'Dell, the pitcher. I like him 'cuz he's pretty good, even though he's kinda small like me. Billy Bear is small too. You're not small, though," he said suddenly, frowning at JD. "You're big."
JD nodded. "I know. I wasn't always big, though. I was really small when I was younger. But I'm old, now, and it happens." He shifted, though, until he was stretched out on the floor, Perry's head above his. "How old are you? You'll be bigger when you grow up, too."
"Dis many," Perry said, holding up four fingers. "I wanna be really big when I get old like you, 'cuz you know why?"
"Why?" JD asked, his heart clenching a little. God, this kid was so young...How long had his asstard father been treating him like this?
"'Cuz then I won't be scared all the time," Perry said matter-of-factly. "When you're bigger you don't get scared, right?"
JD bit the inside of his lip, hugging the bear a little. "Not as much, no...but sometimes you still do," he admitted. "Having good friends helps, though. They're always there for you, when you're scared."
"Oh," Perry said, frowning. "I haven't got any friends. Daddy says I can't go out and play with them cuz I'm not good 'nuff an' I don' got nice things like they got." He flopped down onto his rear, studying Billy Bear carefully, clearly deep in thought. Then, brightening suddenly, he looked back up at JD. "Will you be my friend?" he asked. "I'll be good!"
"I'll be your friend even if you're bad," JD said firmly, swallowing yet again against the lump of anger and pain in his throat. "But I have a very important question for you, Perry."
Perry looked up at him, eyes wide. "What?" he breathed, clearly thrilled to be let in on something important.
JD couldn't help but smile. "Will you be my friend, too?" he asked, voice very serious.
Perry's entire face lit up. "Okay!" he shrieked gleefully, climbing to his feet and moving as though to hug JD. But before JD could move, there was a sudden stuttering noise from the next room, and the house was filled with the sound of an infant's cries.
The effect on Perry was immediate. His eyes grew huge, the smile vanishing instantly; his face went quite pale, and he clapped both hands over his mouth in a theatrical gesture that would've been funny if JD hadn't feared he knew its cause.
Sure enough, moments later, a weary female voice from the room called, "James, please keep him quiet," and moments later, the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway met JD's ears.
"Damned boy," came the muttered curse. "Perry! What did I tell you?!"
Perry bit back a terrified sob and lowered his head, hands clasped behind his back as he shifted nervously from foot to foot.
JD's eyes widened. "Hide!" he hissed, driven by a sudden and powerful impulse to protect the boy. "Hide under the bed!"
Perry shook his head. "Can't," he gulped around his sniffles. "It'll be worse later."
The door swung open, slamming against the far wall and rattling on its hinges, and Perry's father stood, looking every inch as terrifying as he had before. "Boy, what have I told you about being noisy when your sister is asleep?" he growled.
Perry shifted some more. "I'm sorry, Daddy," he said, very quietly.
"Not as sorry as you're gonna be," the man muttered, reaching down and grabbing Perry roughly by the wrist. "Come on. It's the belt for you."
Perry gulped again, but didn't fight against his father's hold; as he was dragged out of the room, he looked over his shoulder at JD and whispered, "Bye," in a high pitched, quavering voice.
* * *
JD woke up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, every moment of the dream still crystal clear in his mind. He shook his head, rolling over, his own alarm clock comforting him somewhat. But when he closed his eyes he say Perry's frightened face again, and he shivered, leaning over to flick the lamp on, grabbing his journal off the bedside table.
It wasn't until he'd written down every detail he remembered that he felt ready for sleep again.
* * *
"I'm telling you, you're reading too much into it," Turk told him again, as they sat at the bar. "The guy's an asshole. So he yelled at you again. Big deal. He yells at you all the time, remember?"
JD sighed, scowling at his beer. "I didn't even do anything," he muttered, tugging at the corner of the label.
"Yeah, so?" Turk snorted, taking another swig of his beer. "Case in point. Dude, why is it bothering you so much?"
JD shrugged. He didn't want to tell Turk that he'd had a bad dream, and that Dr. Cox's rants had reminded him of little Perry's father. Turk knew he was weird, but that would be pushing it even for him. "I dunno," he said. "Lack of sleep, I guess."
"Yeah, speaking of which," Turk said, glancing at him. "I walked by your bedroom at like two in the morning to take a leak and your light was on. Everything okay?"
"I had a strange dream. Wanted to write it down so I could get back to sleep." JD pushed his half-empty bottle aside, sighing. Somehow he didn't even want to feel buzzed, tonight. "I just don't get why Cox is always so hostile...I do everything he wants, as well as I can..."
"Dude, seriously, forget about it," Turk said, waving the bartender over. "And look, I know you don't really go for beer, so you can order an appletini if you want, and I swear I won't make fun of you. Come on, whaddya say?"
JD sighed. "No, I... I'm not really in the mood for this tonight," he said. "I'm sorry--rain check, okay?" He pushed his stool back, standing and dropping a few bucks on the bar. "I'll see you later."
"Dude, what--?" Turk started, but JD ignored him, pushing past the other occupants of the bar and wandering back into the brisk evening air.
He felt a little guilty, leaving Turk alone, but only a little. Some of his surgery buddies would show up soon enough, and he'd forget JD'd taken off.
JD started the walk back to his apartment, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, trying to work out what was bothering him.
Sure the dream had been weird--even more so because it hadn't faded on waking. And sure, Cox had yelled at him again. But why were both things having such an effect on him? He scowled, kicking at a rock. He'd spent half the day wanting to bash Perry's asshole father over the head, swoop in and protect the boy. And he knew there were all sorts of dream interpretations possible from the whole thing, but none of them seemed to ring true. Not for this.
"Why'd I come up with it, anyway?" he muttered to the night air. Aside from the yelling, there wasn't really anything in the dream he could relate to his own life. And even that...Sure, Cox yelled at him, but never with the pure anger and malice he'd heard from Perry's father the night before. Cox was sarcastic, but he wasn't actually abusive, save verbally.
"Maybe I've just been working too hard," he muttered to himself, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. Wasn't like it'd happen again, right?
* * *
Next chapter
* * *